


Harry Potter and the Book of Mormon camping trip

by HelenaNotHere



Series: Broadway crashes Harry Potter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Actually you know what sorry, Adventure, Background Drarry, Build up to McPriceley, Build up to Romione, Crack, Crack Crossover, F/M, Humor, It's McPriceley since the start, M/M, mcpriceley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-02 03:23:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17256680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenaNotHere/pseuds/HelenaNotHere
Summary: Title says it all. Harry who has now mastered Occlumency finds out from Voldy that there's a horcrux in Uganda, and guess who they bump into? Mayhem ensues, along with some crappy crack, a camping trip turned into back-packing trip, and an adventure that's now a lot more fun.





	1. We Need a Change of Plans

**Author's Note:**

> This came out from the belief that fanfiction serves to entertain and the frustration of not being able to find any good comedic broadway-hp crossover. And the result is this,, really crappy cracky thing.

Bill and Fleur’s wedding has been going on in full force. In everyone’s joy and laughter, it’s a beacon of hope, a shining pearl in this dark time. It was a chance for everyone to escape, to not think about the times they live in, and enjoy the knowledge that love exists no matter what. Yet it wasn’t exactly for everyone to enjoy. Not for Harry Potter. And by extension his sidekicks.

Harry had urgently pulled Ron and Hermione aside, and looked around in alarm while casting a muffliado. Hermione anxiously twirled a strand of hair in her fingers and Ron continued working through his plate of chicken legs.

“Okay listen, have I told you about how I finally perfected Occlumency this summer to know whatever the hell Voldemort is doing?”

“WHAT?” Hermione all but shrieked, “No you didn’t tell us at all!”

Ron raised an eyebrow and shook his head (for his mouth was full).

“Sorry, I guess, but I did.”

“Oh that’s… that’s great Harry.”

“Well yeah I finally decided I should learn that one damn thing that’s probably the key to our survival. I don’t understand why I never did before.”

“Harry we’ve got to remain relatable to our audiences. Procrastination makes us more like real people.”

“Then fuck being relatable. I’ve decided I gotta survive before trying to relate to and annoy any audience at the same time.”

“But Harry that’s not how we do it! You can’t just make thing up like that, and I’m sure we’ll survive anyway!”

“Hermione I’m not making up ways of doing things it just made sense.”

“Ay fmnink ef alrigph,” Ron said through a mouthful.

“What was that, Ronald?”

He swallowed, “I think it’s alright.”

“Thank you Ron! No wonder we’re best friends eh?”

Hermione sighed, “just don’t speak with your mouth full! And by the way Harry have you thought about what Dumbledore said? Didn’t he tell you to not use this?”

“But he’s dead. And the point of not using it was to not fall for a conjured vision, but now I would know which ones are real!”

“It’s still dangerous--”

“--the point is,” voices are getting raised. Ron discreetly flung around them another muffliado in case it breaks. Harry continued, “the point is, I’ve seen something and I’m sure of it.”

“--Harry you need to be responsible for yourself you can’t risk putting yourself and others in danger again like back in fifth year--”

“THERE’S A HORCRUX IN UGANDA!”

“Harry WHAT?”

“There’s a horcrux in Uganda!”

“Nice!” Ron got glares from the other two. “...Where is that?”

“AFRICA!” said the other two in perfect unison.

Ron’s grin froze onto his face, “umm… right… Oh! Oh, boy, like Lion King!”

“How’d you even know what that is?”

Harry never heard his answer, because just then, the air froze as a silver lynx patronus fell through the canopy, and Kingsley Shacklebolt’s deep voice called out:

_ “The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming." _

* * *

Mayhem ensued. Something must have happened from this point in time to another, from this point in place to another, between the blazing fire and the strange black smoke, because the next thing we could see clearly was the trio almost getting hit by a bus. They ducked just in time into an alley, and Hermione sank onto the ground.

“I need to think.”

“Sure ‘Miony, you could start thinking when all those dudes stop catcalling you, they’re damn distracting,” Harry said as he looked around the edge of the alleyway and discreetly had his wand at the ready.

Hermione paused for a beat, “Is it the catcalling distracting to you, or the dudes?”

“Why don’t we get catcalled Ron? We’re not bad-looking ourselves.”

“Keep telling yourself that mate,” Ron said, “Just cause you’ve got a boyfriend it doesn’t mean you’re good looking. Just means one person’s got weird sense of what’s good-looking.”

“Thanks Ron but Draco Malfoy does not have an awry sense of beauty.”

“Sure buddy. ‘Mione can we at least get a change of clothes? Muggles around and all?”

“Huh? Oh! Yes, right!” Hermione absent-mindedly produced her Doraemon pouch and handed the both them random articles of clothing, while she went back to her mental qualitative calculus and normative multivariate analysis of their situation.

“Harry,” she called, as Ron put a large jacket around her shoulders, “how much do you know about where and what this horcrux is?”

“Voldemort said the name of the town? Don’t remember the name and have no idea where it is, but oh well, I’ll know it when I see the name.”

“That’s practically nothing to work with. Still, I think our best shot is-- HOLY SHIT”

Out of nowhere two large wand-bearing men strolled into their alley. The trio sprang into action. Again we know something was happening, Harry was probably doing something cool, and Hermione doing something cooler, flash flash bang bang, and by the end of it the two men were lying unconsciously on the ground.

“Okay,” Hermione continued, “as I was saying, our best shot now is to go to Uganda.”

“Okay.” said the boys is unison. They don’t question Hermione’s mental multivariate calculus.

“Wait but we can’t just go. Harry how are you going to tell Draco?”

“I’m not.”

“What? But Harry that’s irresponsible towards the dedication a-and transparency that you are meant to have for one another an--”

“Hermione, stop! I told him about leaving during the holiday and I think he’s still pretending to be mad at me for not taking him anyway.”

“Still. We can’t just leave like this! W-we’ve got to plan!”

“I say,” and Harry held the other two’s hands dramatically “we get out of this country first!” Harry apparated the three of them to the international floo station.

“Woah cool,” Ron said, but Hermione wasn’t too happy:

“You. Could. Have. Splinched. Us. And you don’t even have a lisence yet, Harry you just broke the law!”

Harry gave her A Look. “The law. Really? You know what, just to show that I’ve got no regards for the stupid laws, I’m going to pull you guys into the nearest departing port, right now!”

“What? Why! W-what are you doing!”

“I’m using my ego and impulsiveness as a convenient plot device of course!” and he apparated them into a small portkey departure room with only a guy wearing pristine white shirt and board-straight black tie.

“Ahhhhh”, the man screamed.

“Ahhhhhhhhh”, the trio screamed.

“AHHHHHH”, the man screamed after recognizing them, “It’s Harry Potter and sidekicks!”

Luckily, the portkey (a book with an ink-blue cover) swirled them away just then, before the security guys went berserk over hearing Harry’s name.

After what seemed like an eternity of spinning, twirling, swirling, the four had landed. It was a room no different from the departing room in London, the only indication they had that they were out of the country was a small sign on the wall:

_ “Welcome to Salt Lake City. You won’t believe how much this city will change your life.” _

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback? Please? Pretty please?


	2. Taking the Long Way to Africa

“Well shit.” Harry said conclusively. The sign on the wall seemed to stare and scream at him: “ _THIS CITY WILL CHANGE YOUR LIIIIIFEE!_ ” Screaming in C Major.

“We need somewhere to stay for the night.” Hermione remained rational.

“Well, Sirs and dear Lady,” they didn’t realize that the white-shirt was still in the room, watching them closely, “I could offer you a place to stay tonight, if you follow me, but only if…”

“If what?”

“Only if you take this book.” He said solemnly, and took out from his bag a small book that looks identical to the portkey.

“The Book of Mormon?” Harry read from the cover, “why have I never heard of that?”

“The **Book of Mormon** is a [ sacred text ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sacred_text) of the [ Latter Day Saint movement ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Latter_Day_Saint_movement) , which adherents believe contains writings of ancient [ prophets ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prophet) who lived on the [ American continent ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Americas) from approximately 2200 BC to AD 421 [ [1] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Book_of_Mormon#cite_note-1) [ [2] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Book_of_Mormon#cite_note-2) .” Hermione explained, “and when have you ever heard of anything that we come across?”

“Oh Merlin,” Ron suddenly said, “which one was the portkey?”

In any other occasion the man would have corrected Ron (“you mean ‘Oh Mormon’?”), but now, looking at the two books in his two hands, he started to panic, “oh no the portkey is not supposed to leave the room! Oh Jesus, Mormon and Moroni, what do I do! Rules! Oh my God--”

Amid his hysterics, Harry pulled out his wand, “Accio Portkey!” and the portkey-Book of Mormon flew into his hands. “Worked that last time,” he shrugged, “that’s what you call experience.”

“We’ll take that book then,” Hermione took the other book from the man, “now get us a room.”

The three boys stared at her. 

“Umm… sure, dear lady,” the man said, “if everyone will hold on, off we go,” and the four of them apparated away with a pop.

* * *

“I have never seen this much people dressed exactly the same way.” Harry commented, upon entering what’s called the ‘mission control center’, “How do they even tell everyone apart? At least at school they had house colours.”

“Elders!” The man called, “we have visitors tonight! We gotta show that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is perfectly hospitable to the homeless children, and other weaker members of the society!”

“Yes Elder Red!” A few called back exuberantly.

“We’re not homeless!” Harry shout-whispered indignantly.

“Yes, Harry, yes we are homeless, can you just close your mouth until we’re in a room so they can’t kick us out?”

“And they all have the same name? _How the hell do they tell everyone apart_?”

“Your name is Elder Red?” Ron asked Elder Red, as Hermione and Harry bickered on.

“Oh yes. Elder White, Elder Green and I make the most renowned Christmas carol group around here. Now if you follow me, I’ll take you to your rooms. May I ask how long you’re staying?”

“Thank you, and just the night, since we’ll leave for Africa tomorrow.”

“Oh, what a coincidence! I believe we also have two young missionaries here at the center leaving for Africa tomorrow!”

“Oh Merlin… Those two will be going to exactly where we’re going… and they’re going to be on our plane too!”

“It’s ‘Oh Mormon’, and why do you say so?”

“From what I know, that’s exactly how ‘convenient plot devices’ would work.”

They have arrived at a door without a name tag, “I suppose that makes sense,” Elder Red said, “I’ll leave you here sirs and dear lady, lights out promptly at ten, and we all wake up at six, but you’re welcome to leave whenever you want.” Then he turned and walked away, Ron thought he heard him squeak a little ‘oh goshies that was Harry Potter!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right so when I wrote this I knew it would be mainly for self-entertainment (no one is going to read this lmao) but if you have read this and it has entertained you and you told me it would make a vain and lonely Helena very happy~


	3. Hermione's Moral Integrity and the British Heteronorm

The next morning, the trio was seen in the waiting area for a plane bound for Uganda. We will not discuss the process of their arrival at the airport, their checking in, or their passing the security, in order to protect Hermione’s moral integrity. As a very short summary, it involved a lot of apparating (once into a bathroom), the invisibility cloak, and a very, very bewildered taxi driver.

Now, Hermione had just taken out her copy of Beedle the Bard to kill some time, and as an afterthought, also took out her Book of Mormon. With a few discreet swishes of wand from under her sleeves, Beedle the Bard now bears the dark blue cover of the Book of Mormon. Meanwhile, Harry was staring open-jawed at the families of two white-shirt board-tie boys, who were to be on the same plane as them. Ron was not surprised.

“Damn, look at them Ron,” said Harry, “that’s a family almost as big as the Weasleys. Those guys have lots of kids.”

“Hermione look that’s literally the largest family I’ve seem made up of only guys!”

“Ronald!” Hermione shook her head, “the ones wearing dresses are meant to be women. You’re not  _ supposed _ to realize they’re really guys…”

“But that’s so gay and perfect wow I love America!”

“Harry weren’t you just complaining about everything American? Oh and if you come around one day looking like that I’ll disown you.”

“Hey! What am I to you to disown?”

“A human being decently dressed according to the British heteronorm.”

“But there isn’t anything wrong with them! Like come on, imagine them in those Renaissance puffed gowns or something, it’d be worse… or even better…”

“Hermione, they’re not going to be in those dresses the whole time are they?” Ron asked, seeing that Harry had gone off to some mental Drarry dreamland.

“No, don’t worry Ron, it’s just for this scene, which is probably ending because the lights are going out, how are they even doing that? And where does that drum come fr--”

_ “NAAAAANTS INGONYAMAAA BAGITHI BABA--” _

“Oh boy,” Ron got excited, “it’s Lion King!”

“How did you kn--”

“Oh look! Everyone’s getting on the plane already, let’s go!”

Ron’s distraction tactic was a success.

“Oh my, you’re right! How are we actually getting on? Harry! Come back to Earth! How are we getting on the plane?”

“Cloak, apparating, possibly some bewildered passengers.”

The scene is cut again, to where the trio was now sitting safely in the plane. Worry not, the seats were found without endangering Hermione’s moral integrity, as long as undetectably expanding the baggage rack isn’t illegal.

An advantage of being in the baggage rack, Ron thought, was that the meeting with the Elders could be delayed for yet one more scene; but the disadvantage was that, well, he might really need to pee at some point.

 

* * *

 

“Hermione, do you have a ladder in your Doraemon pouch?” Ron asked as they hear the plane touch ground.

“Yes, why?”

“Holy Godric you do?”

“Yes, why do you need it?”

“Why would you have it?”

“It was in my house so I packed it. Why do you need it?”

“Did you pack everything in your house?”

“Well, no, just the ones that would help with jumping out of plot holes during this journey. Now. Why. Do. You. Need. It?”

“To get down from the baggage rack, of course. Even I figured it out.” Harry chimed in, “but Harry Freakin Potter needs no ladder!” and he jumped straight out of the baggage rack. And landed straight in front of a very startled Kevin Price.

“AH! HeLLO my name is Elder Price, and here I have the the most amazing book you’ll ever come across, it has so many awesome parts and did you know the Bible is a trilogy-- oh wait no sorry that part’s meant to be cut--”

“--Godric! Dude calm down, you okay?” Harry finally said once he’d recovered from recognising not-fat white-shirt.

Elder Price took a deep breath, “Oh yes sir, I’m fine now, thank you for the help.” His tone was utterly stiff and embarrassed, which was all the better for Harry who now had less to be embarrassed about.

“Umm, it’s alright. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Harry muttered, and in the corner of his eye he spotted a shift in the air like through a disillusionment charm. So them two got down alright.

“Hey best friend what’s going on, the people behind me are getting kind of angry…”  _ Oh hey _ , Harry thought,  _ there’s fat white-shirt as well _ .

Not-fat white-shirt only got more embarrassed, “I suggest that we proceed forward sir.”

“Oh! Oh yes, of course.” Harry finally turned around and started walking. “So what are you doing in Uganda?”

“Well, I am a missionary from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and I’m to be on a mission-- and with my partner Elder Cunningham here of course-- to a small town in the North of Uganda called Umejaribu Vizuri.”

“Holy Mother of Morgana! That’s the name of the town! I remember! That’s exactly where we’re going to!”

Ron made a noise between a cough and a whimper. Then definitely a whimper as Hermione elbowed him for making that noise.

“Oh what a great coincidence! Praise Christ for sending a companion on this journey.”

Harry threw him  _ A Look _ , “One, there’s no Jesus; two, you’re clearly not alone,” he gestured to fat white-shirt.”

“Mister! How dare you utter such words and doubt the existence of Jesus Christ himself? You are clearly in need one of those,” he thrust a Book of Mormon into Harry’s hands, “and dare I ask whether you are traveling alone?”

“Um would you please stop talking like that? No I’m not alone, my two friends are… somewhere around here? And no thanks we’ve got one of those already.”

They walked in awkward silence for a bit, Harry tracing the wavy shadows of disillusioned shapes. Then Hermione suddenly came out of disillusion and crowded towards Elder Price, “Hey Mr. Price, I’m Hermione Granger, the voice of reason out of our group and I see Harry the idiot has neglected--”

“I need explanation on the mechanism of your appearance.”

“--has neglected to ask whether we could be provided accommodation?”

“I need explanation on the mechanism of your appearance.”

“Fine, I’m a witch.”

Elder Price shook his head, “you atheists clearly have an unhealthy sense of humour--”

“--Hey,” Hermione held up her ink blue cover book, “I’ve read this cover to cover, okay? I swear to,” a pause, “atheist God, that it’s not a lie.”

It wasn’t. Hermione  _ had _ read Beedle the Bard cover to cover.

“Well… I guess the Latter Day Saints of district 9 will be happy to help the disadvantaged.”

“Hermione you’re amazing,” Ron muttered as he entered the airport building (building?) and took off his disillusion.

“Oh you flatter me.”

“I’ll take credit for the one bumping into him first.”

Behind the trio, Elder Price had visibly jumped at the third time a human materialised from thin air right in front of him. The state of this journey now, it’s exactly as Arnold Cunningham thought as he followed Kevin Price:  _ this just got a whole lot more interesting _ .


	4. Hasa Diga Ebowaii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say, it's short but writing this was so. much. fun.

Elder Price  _ knew _ Africa isn’t exactly like Lion King. He knew that. He knew the animals don’t actually  speak English or sound American, and he knew they don’t have eyes that big and couldn’t actually make a tower of themselves. Those he knew. But, but the people! They were just singing and dancing together, all happy and joyful, and he felt so fuzzily warm in getting a first-hand experience of the colourful, joyous culture of the people of Africa, that he almost forgot about the baggage that got robbed away, then… the planets collided like a fresh set of billiards and the largest piece of debris flew across the milky way and then the Atlantic to tear apart a piece of fabric called his outlook on life, love, values and the world.

And he can’t decide what scared him most at the moment, because the black haired “idiot” guy that came with them, he’s- he’s really f-flipped up!

But really, that guy was already giving him bad feelings when he embarrassed himself at first impression. Elder Price had never given anyone such a bad first impression of himself and this guy-- this guy made him do it. Yet, that was  _ nothing _ comprared to this--

When Mr. Hatimbi finally revealed that-- that they were saying eff you to Heavenly Father, that guy had sprung up so excitedly as if he’d just heard the best thing in the world, shouting “Yes! YES! This song is so perfect!” and joined their dance. The Ugandans were also more than happy to have someone join, and they circled around the guy as he launched into his verse:

“For eleven years I was a slave, I’ve faced death a million ways, I love the guy I used to hate,”

“Hasa Diga Ebowaii!” The crowd cheered, as the guy added “though that last one isn’t really something to complain about.”

_ Oh my God _ , Elder Price thought,  _ they are actually cheering and laughing and clapping _ . The music kept going, and the second verse flowed out like he was always ready to give verses like this:

“My mum is dead my dad is dead, a godfather I knew for a year? he’s dead! Some guy also wants  _ ME _ dead,”

“Hasa Diga Ebowaii!”

_ Wait a moment. WAIT A MOMENT. That wasn’t Elder Cunningham’s voice singing along was it?  _

“Hasa Dega Ebowayi, Hesa Dige Abowaii, am I saying that right? Hase Diga Ebowaii!”

Elder Price thought he’d pass out.

* * *

 

As our scene here ends, the verses continue in the background:

“If you don’t like what we say, try living here (Harry shouted “try being me!”) a couple days, watch all your friends and family die, Hasa Diga Ebowaii!”


	5. Hasa Diga Ebowaii Reprise 1

“Godric, that was the most fun I’ve had in such a long time!” Harry was still bouncing as they followed the white-shirts following an Ugandan girl to where the white-shirts supposedly all stay.

Ron was still coughing to recover from choking while laughing so much, and Hermione was wiping away tears from the corner of her eyes. (Were those happy tears or sad tears fell in sympathy for the people of Africa? We shall never know.)

“Yes Harry it’s all very well that you were bonding with the Ugandans because it is conductive to our later investigation into the horcrux here, but tell me you won’t actually sit around for the rest of the war flipping god the finger and doing nothing?”

“Don’t ever worry about the integrity of my saviour complex Hermione, Harry Potter is always there to save the day! You know what, I’m working on it now,” he turned to call in front, “hey girl! Nabulungi!”

Elder Cunningham stage-whispered “how did he say that?” as Nabulungi turned around and smiled sweetly at Harry. The Ugandans and Harry have surely bonded.

“Hey Harry, what do you need?”

“Oh hey you know my name as well! I was just going to ask whether you know what a horcrux is?”

“Harry! Are you seriously--” Hermione started but Ron pulled her shoulder and shushed her.

“Shhh, this doesn’t work like the books, and I sense a convenient plot device coming.”

“Oh sure I do,” Nabulungi said, “everyone knows about it. Papa said it’s a story from decades ago, when a white man came to Umejaribu Vizuri. He took a grain of sand and put a part of his soul in it to make a horcrux, and he left it in the desert. Then he left Uganda and never came back.” She then realized Harry wasn’t next to him. He had stopped dead at her words. Oh dear, that’s worrying, “What’s the matter Harry?”

“A grain of sand?”

“Yes. Not two grains or three grains. He must have had a really really big magnifying machine to make sure of that.”

“A grain of sand?  _ A grain of sand? _ ”

“Yes Harry, you have said that three times already. Are you alright? You seem a bit pale. Oh dear, all three of you are very very pale.”

“That was a heavier plot platter than I thought.” Ron didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“But surely that can’t be right,” Hermione tried, “He was meant to put his soul in something highly valuable, his ego wouldn’t allow a part of himself to be dependent on something so mundane.”

“I think he didn’t want anyone to find it. Or why has he come to Umejaribu Vizuri, Uganda?”

Harry moaned, “we’ll never find it! Hermione can I sit around and do nothing and just flip my middle finger at the sky now?”

“Do you guys mean the story is real?” Nabulungi asked excitedly.

The trio was clearly too distressed to answer.

“What’s real?” That’s Elder Cunningham’s voice, cracking mid-sentence.

Nabulungi smiled and sighed, “nevermind, Elder, just a story”, while Elder Price muttered quietly to himself something like a mantra:

“Planet Orlando is real. Jackson county is real. Jesus Christ is  _ real _ .” 

“Jesus Christ is NOT real!” Harry cried.

“Calm down buddy,” Ron said, patting Harry’s shoulder, “whatever Jesus Christ is, we have to keep believing in the power of convenient plot devices and the success rule of the good guys. That grain of sand will come to us in the end, don’t you worry.”


	6. TURN IT OFF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you ever wonder, what happens inside other people’s heads? Watch out, Mormons, we’re going on tour! Into everyone’s heads! (aka there are way too many perspective shifts)  
> This chapter also features tiny snippets of Wicked and Star Wars (courtesy of Arnold)

“The new recruits are here!”

Ron was barely through the door of the hut when the cheeriest, gayest voice called out. And once he’d seen his face-- oh Merlin, this guy has more Albino genes in him than bloody Malfoy.

“I am Elder McKinley, current leader of District nin--” he jumped a bit at seeing way too many people than expected, “a-and you must be-- Elder Price and Elder Cunningham!” He said as he shook Ron and Harry’s hands. “And who are you?” He looked towards Elder Price, Elder Cunningham and Hermione.

“Umm, I’m Elder Price and this is Elder Cunningham.”

Elder McKinley’s gaze did _not_ linger on Elder Price. Or drop to his lips.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” He quickly moved over to shake their hands instead, “I should have noticed your uniforms, silly me-”

He stopped abruptly as his hands clutched Elder Price’s.

 _Hands touch, eyes meet,_ “well Elder Price,” _sudden silence, sudden heat,_ “I’ve heard a lot of great things about you,” _hearts leap in a giddy whirl,_ “I really hope you could, turn things around here…”

Elder Price turned his gaze to the floor. The both of them were _not_ flushed red.

“And umm… “ Elder McKinley said, trying to salvage himself, “may I ask who you three are? And what’s wrong with you? You don’t look well.”

“We’re homeless. I mean I’m Ron, this is Harry and Hermione, they’re sort of in shock.”

“Oh dear, Elder Price, how kind of you to bring them in, it truly shows the hospitality of the church towards weaker members of society! Only the hut may not have enough rooms, perhaps some of us would share…” He did _not_ covertly glance towards Elder Price at this last part.

“Nah mate it’s fine,” Ron said, thinking he’d save Elder Price for now, “we’ve got a tent, we can just set it up in the living room.”

“Oh. Where is the tent?”

“Umm…” Ron sweats, “It’s ugh, it’s off stage right, they’ll send it up.”

“Ah okay, that makes sense.”

* * *

Elder Price was _confused_.

Remember the star-crossed piece of planet debris that ripped apart his fabric of life outlook? Turns out his structurally-socialized value system of an exclusive secondary socialization institute wasn’t shredded enough. Turns out God dug a hole called Elder McKinley in front of him, waiting for him to fall in. Actually, what God did was digging a tunnel underground, right under his feet, all the way to China, and threw in everything from a fat mission partner to a case of Books of Mormon being stolen to crazy Brits to _Africans_ and of course, to Elder flipping McKinley. He listened to Elder McKinley talking to ginger crazy Brit in the background, and even his voice was constantly shooting pinprick arrows to his heart. And he didn’t even understand that yet.

“Oh,” Elder McKinley said excitedly, “so you guys are here on a mission as well? Is it like a pilgrimage?”

“N-no?” stupid ginger crazy Brit probably had no idea what a pilgrimage even is. Atheists.

“Ah that’s alright. We here, however, strive to bring faith to the hearts of everyone through Baptism.”

“Well how many have you Baptized so far?” Elder Cunningham said.

“Ah,” Elder McKinley’s confident demeanor suddenly became abashed. He found it cute. Oh Jesus he was confused. “Zero?”

“Oh that’s practically nothing.”

WHAT? _Zero?_ Now Elder Price was confused on a whole other dimension. Now the mission itself was at stake? Confused-confused. He had to push himself off the sofa, and walked to the side.

“What’s the matter Elder?” and Elder McKinley's voice is so soft and genuine and concerned and- oh God.

_Confused confused confused._

“I’m just--” Elder Price sighed.

* * *

Harry had been watching the white shirts. Elder Price (he learnt the name since not-fat didn’t work as an identifier any more) had this light in his eyes. It’s emotions overflowing and he can just see it. It’s so clearly there, doesn’t matter if he’s meters away and not even looking at him. The emotions are so _clear_ , because it resonates so _clearly_ with his own at the moment, as summarized by one word--

“Confused,” he heard himself say. Elder Price’s gaze snapped to him, then suddenly snapped away in embarrassment.

“Oh,” the white shirts said in perfect unison, “confused.” They must have had so much rehearsal for this coordination. Now this Uganda place must be such a crap-holder for confusion, for them to get so much practice.

Elder Price walked up, between Elder Price and himself, “you know, _I’ve got the feeling, that you could be feeling, a whole lot better than you feel today!_ ”

* * *

Hermione was feeling uncomfortably self-conscious for being the only female in the room. And it’s made worse by the off-radar amounts of gay tension around here-- really, though she’s “in shock” from the horcrux incident, her mental multivariate calculus calculator never stops, and the evaluative results it yielded was infallible.

 

_“You say you got a problem, well that’s no problem! It’s super easy not to feel that way!”_

>>> Evaluation: Harry is intrigued. This isn’t a good sign. Language here resembles manipulative advertisement. Be careful.

 

_“When you start to get confused ‘cause of thought in your head,_

>>> Evaluation: Both Harry and Elder Price are drawn in now. Merlin, even Elder Cunningham is nodding along...

 

_don’t feel those feelings, hold them in instead! Turn it off!”_

>>> ALERT!! RED LIGHTS!!! WARNING!!! This is an appealing but unhealthy way of dealing with issues at hand! Open communication and thinking and rationalizing are vital! Refer back to incident 4.08 Ron not telling Harry about being jealous; incident 4.10 Ron the bastard made you cry at Yule Ball; incident 6.07 Harry not admitting his crush and becomes unhealthily obsessive; incident x.25 Dad not telling Mum about that he really hates the way she makes the curry, etc. etc.

* * *

Elder Cunningham bopped up and down with the music rhythm and looked admiringly at Elder McKinley as he sang. He’s such a nice guy! Arnold almost regretted claiming Kevin as his best friend so soon. But damnit, he shouldn’t be saying that! He wouldn’t abandon his best friend even if he met someone cooler. And he knew Kevin wouldn’t abandon him either, like how Han Solo stuck with Luke even after he met Princess Leia.

 

_“When your feeling certain feels that just don't seem right_

_Treat those pesky feelings like a reading light_

_and turn em off!”_

 

Oh what nice guys! Arnold could feel he’s going to really like those Elders. Well, he’s always liked people, whether people like him back is the part where the problem is. But those Elders would surely like him back! And he’s not going to forget about Kevin! He's a bit sad that Kevin is so sad, but he should just listen to everyone and Arnold was sure he’d be happy!

* * *

Elder Price was not happy. 

As the room darkened and lightened with Elder Church and Elder Thomas telling their stories, the bunch of nerves in his head controlling his sanity got pulled up and thrown away times and again, with him becoming more and more confused by the minute.

Was there one single non-flipped-up person around here?

Just then Elder McKinley stepped forward, cleared his throat, and--

_“When I was in fifth grade, I had a friend Steve Blade--”_

Oh dear, oh no. Primary school friends never held anything good…

_“One thing led to another, and soon I would discover, I was having very strange feelings for Steve.”_

There’s definitely no sane person here. His entire face was starting to steam, and he searched frantically in his pockets for a handkerchief, a blanket, a tissue, anything--

* * *

As Elder McKinley’s verse ventured into contents unsuitable for the G rating, Ron observed faces around the room in fascination.

While Elder Price desperately swiped his cheeks and forehead with _Turn if off_ echoing in his brain so much Ron could practically hear it, Harry’s face lit up like he’d just realized Christmas is coming after Halloween. There’s no need to look at Hermione, she’s probably adding to her pool of data for her situational analytical calculus or some random smart thing, and wouldn’t have realized the story’s parallel to their own, like he did. Well, Ron wasn’t even _the best friend_ of Hermione so the ‘I have feelings for my best friend’ thing wouldn’t even work.

He stole a glance anyway.

And found Hermione watching him with a small smile. “You’re thinking,” she said.

“Ugh, yeah…” His face heated up ( _not_ as much as Elder Price) and he smiled back goofily, then quickly turned away.

“I was thinking as well,” Hermione continued, not at all aware of Ron’s _state_ , “about the turning it off attitude. Because you see, on the surface it’s surely interpreted as something you shouldn’t do in consideration of the value of truth, but sometimes assigning less mental quota to a certain problem might actually be beneficial, if you review some Muggle psychoanalyst theory from the sixties and seventies, you’d find…”

It goes on.

Ron sighed, and decided to go back to watching their favorite gay powerhouses.

* * *

 

_“So if you ever feel you rather be with a man, turn it off!”_

Connor McKinley _knew_ by this point he was just singing it to himself. _Oh if music be the food of love!_ The problem was simple enough, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from Elder Price’s. Why is _everything_ about him so cute? From his perfect hair to his perfect eyes to even his plain arrogance and confusion and his perfect height that’s just a bit taller than himself so he’d just be able to lean up and kis-- OH MY HEAVENLY FATHER TURN IT OFF.

 _Right so you can’t pull yourself_ away _, then close your eyes, that’s it Connor, and deep breath. There we go._

He glanced around and found every pair of eyes on the three of them-- him, Elder Price, and Harry was it?-- at the center of the room. Even Harry was watching him with a smugly amused expression. So this one’s got quite an ego. “Well kid, you’ve got anything to say?”

Harry shrugged, “don’t turn if off, at least not _that_ , worked out in the end for me well enough.”

“Yeah but atheists don’t count!”

* * *

After a spectacular tap number, magically appearing pink sparkle vests (though Hermione insisted it was not magic), and a gross oversimplification of neuroscience (as said by Hermione-- “honestly, boxes?”), Harry sat back on the sofa before they started preparing the tent and retreating for the night. As he watched McKinley dancing and leading Elder Price out by the hand, it’s all brought one thing to his mind:

This made him really, really miss Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone could catch The Producers references,, boi I’m sold you’re possibly my soulmate right there.


	7. Dear Draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't so funny, but my brain was itching for some drarry...  
> Not sorry.

Dear Draco,

 

~~I hope you’re not still mad at me or something~~

~~I hope you are having fun at the Manor~~

~~I hope you missed me cuz I miss you~~

~~I genuinely hope this letter finds you in good health argh what the fuck~~

Hi. I think I miss you.

But that doesn’t mean I regret my decision and now think that you should have came, because I was _right_ and you shouldn’t ever come here if you don’t want third-degree sunburn. And AIDS probably.

Anyway, long story short, I can’t tell you where we are, but we left the country yesterday, and now have already crossed three continents, with even a short stay in the Great America (but we didn’t go to New York or see the Eugene O’Neill theatre, so don’t worry, I’m still going there first time with you).

We also picked up a bunch of weird white shirts and-- except for being evil and all-- they’re probably a weirder religious cult than the Death Eaters. Like, they have this book of rules or stories or something that they shove under everyone’s noses, and they think being gay is bad! Can you imagine? What kind of idiot would ever think that? Ouch okay Hermione just hit me over the head and told me that apparently almost every religious thing is anti-gay. This is a sad world.

Oh and back to the point of this, with the you-know-what business… We’re probably stuck here for a while. Hermione’s gonna go mad about it and I was also going mad but you know what, we gotta keep the percentage of madmen in our team under 50%, so I’m going to stay sane. Besides that, there’s nothing much to do, but there’s this pair of white shirts that make me feel like jumping into a pensieve and watching us all over again. But they’re worse because they’ve just met, and one of them seem like it’s the first time he thought about the word ‘gay’ while the other one sang the gayest song about not being gay.

I think that’s all for now, they turn lights off at 10 and I can’t use Lumos.

 

Sincerely,

Me

(Harley)

(You know I can’t use my actual name)

p.s. How did you get over being gay AND religious? I think I feel bad for those dudes.

p.p.s. You know how this letter is getting sent? Hermione brought an OWL in her Doraemon bag thing (I mean owl not O.W.L. But I think she brought O.W.L. stuff too anyway). I was worried that the bird will take too long to fly and disturb the plot timeline, but apparently 1. time doesn’t matter here and 2. she heavily implied that the bird can apparate? 

 

* * *

 

The reply came the next morning, resting next to Harry’s pillow, and we can only imagine him smiling goofily while reading it.

  


* * *

 

 

My dearest, Harry,

 

You’re adorable.

No I’m not mad at you, life at the Manor is probably going as well as your krufuxa mission, you egotistical shit but of course I miss you, and my health is... fine.

And I hope the Harvey-something sign off was a joke and you didn’t try to conceal your identity in such an amateurical manner. It’d be an insult to your (apparent) intelligence.

The point about sunburn, fair enough, but I feel personally insulted by either the implication of that AIDS comment, or your complete ignorance of its transmission.

Thank Merlin you’ve got one fibre of sense in you to not tell me where you are, because mails into the Manor are monitored. Consequently, the Dark Lord now knows about my “thing” for New York and knows what to bribe me with.

Weirder than the Death Eaters? I don’t see anyone else getting tattoos to join organisations. As for “rules”, I believe there’s a list written by the Dark Lord himself that everyone goes by, though it’s mainly members who get them shoved under their noses.

They seem like a nice couple, I’d root for them. But honestly, if I were to watch us I would end up feeling embarrassed for us on the side of it, even in a pensieve.

And Harry, there’s no doubt that I do miss you, and even more than winning the war I want you to stay alive and safe. Even though you’d die and try to save everyone anyway. Why did I bother. Yet in all seriousness, please take care of yourself, I’ll be waiting for you to come back.

And now I’m sealing the envelope before I regret the sappiness,

 

Yours,

Draco.

 

P.s. Harry, I can’t believe that you think the Malfoys, the backstabbing, double-crossing, lying, despicably snobbish Malfoys, were ever religious.

P.p.s. Oh by the way, don’t reply. I’ll send you something when it’s safe. Say hi to Granger and the Weasel.


	8. Spooky Moldy Voldy Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Features cameo of Lucius Malfoy and Voldy's list of rules. :)

After breakfast, (shared with a bunch of Ugandan kids running around (“Mama says their book is useless as fuck but their food isn’t.”)) the trio sat down at the sofa, planning their next line of action. Well, Hermione planned, and the other two watched.

“That’s it,” Hermione suddenly said, “there are no solutions to the equation. The ones I found were still imaginary. We actually don’t have anything to do now.”

“What about… trying to get stuff from Voldy’s head?” Harry suggested.

“I didn’t use that parameter in my calculation so I don’t know.”

“But why!”

“Because I don’t like it!”

“Ugh!” Harry threw his hands in the air, “Ron, convince her!”

Ron shrugged, “Unless Voldy has the brain power to track a grain of sand over fifty years… I mean, even Hermione can’t do that.”

Harry huffed, and the three fell silent for a while.

 

“Oh shit,” Harry’s head shot up, “I think Voldy’s emotions are running up. Hang on, let me tune in.”

“Okay,” Ron said, “we’ll just go talk to the other guys, good luck Harry.”

“Still don’t approve it, Harry.” Hermione said, but walked out of the room with Ron.

 

Now alone, Harry laid down on the sofa, and closed his eyes, reaching out to find the thread that he knew was there...

 _Voldemort is_ angry _, like,_ really _angry, and Harry can feel it. Harry can see a man, cowering down in front of him. Anger and betray is blinding, and the rear of his view starts to bleed out of focus, into a uniform blackness, every nerve of him is now fixated on this man-- this… coward! Look at this shivering little worm! Pathetic! And I dare let him be one of my closest follower…_

Oh shit, Harry thought, as Voldy continued doubting his life choices, that’s Lucius Malfoy! What has he done now! Blessed Merlin or Mormon that’s gonna be my father-in-law! What if something happens to him? You take away my mum and dad, now my future-father-in-law? THat’s why I kept telling those dumb white-shirts that there’s no Jesus…

 _“Oh ye little worm!”_ Voldy’s now again in dramatic control, _“how DARE you not tell me about something of this much significance!”_

What has he done what has he done what has he done.

_“I placed with you such TRUST, such-- such-- I even came to live with you,”_

WHAT HAS HE DONE WHAT HAS HE DONE WHAT HAS HE DONE

_“How DARE you not tell me about your son and Potter!”_

Oh my Green Moroni, Harry thought he’d passed out-- well, except for he’s technically already passed out-- Shitshitshit now Slimy Voldy’s gonna use Draco to lure me out, to, to make sure we can’t accomplish anything because if he controls Draco he basically determines what we can and cannot do and WHAT IF HE HURTS DRACO!

_“I was rooting for the two of them ever since they were eleven dammit!”_

Lucius Malfoy was dumbstruck. He even stopped shaking. Harry was so stunned he couldn’t think at all.

_“They’re like my OTSP! One True Snake Pairing!”_

_Lucius is now staring up at him. Gaping. Looking like a damn goldfish. His eyes were darkly-ringed and looked so hollow it drained the anger out of him. Well, they say there’s still_ some _humanity in good ol’ Voldy._

Now that Voldy’s hormones are down to a more normal level, Harry could gather back his senses, and slowly, he opened his eyes...

* * *

“AHHHHH!”

Harry couldn’t decide what was more scary, the ‘vision’, or opening his eyes to Elder McKinley’s face inches from his, taking up his entire field of vision.

He sprang up into a sitting position, as McKinley got up from kneeling on the floor next to the sofa. He looks genuinely concerned and it warms Harry a little. Well, mostly to mitigate the annoyance and the fright.

“Were you having the Spooky Mormon Hell Dream?”

“The Spooky-- the what?”

“Were you dreaming?”

“Y-Yes?”

“And were you sent to Hell by a bunch of skeletons and was abandoned by Jesus and met the Devil himself?”

“...What? McKinley what are you on about!”

Elder McKinley’s brows furrowed slightly, “Oh. So it wasn’t the Mormon Hell Dream?”

“No? That sounds to be exclusively for Mormons?”

“Oh alright then. In that case I don’t have much comfort to offer.”

“Umm...”

“But are you alright? You seemed to be having a bad dream.”

“Oh yes, I’m fine. It was a great dream actually…”

“Glad to hear.” McKinley got up and started to the kitchen, “you have an interesting scar on your forehead.”

“It’s from a plane crash.”

McKinley’s lips quirked up a little, “not really?”

Harry shrugged and muttered, “no, not really.”

“Oh by the way, Elder Neeley might be a bit mad at you for taking the sofa for yourself this long.”

But Harry had no mind to pay to that, _OTSP_ , he thought, _One True SNAKE pairing? What the hell Voldy, that sounds terrible!_

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, at Malfoy Manor:

“Oh Lucius, you must see how important it is that you don’t-- that-- that you always tell me the truth! What is my number one rule?”

“Um, to always leave Potter to you, my lord?”

“Oh damn, right… well, what’s my second rule?”

“That Harry Potter is _the_ enemy, the Undesirable Number One?”

“Really? Well you know what, fuck it,” and Voldemort drew out his wand to conjure a large scroll of parchment. With another jerk he unrolled it, and scanned across the page--

“There! Now Lucius, what’s rule number twenty three?”

“umm--”

“--To always tell the truth to Lord Voldemort!”

“Yes, my lord.”

With a sigh, Voldemort tossed the scroll carelessly offstage. “Well, perhaps those rules need to change… now that the Potter boy is your son’s _desirable_ number one… Not that this in itself is a bad thing… You know, I’ve always had the hope that one day there’ll be a Drarry heaven…” A bell dinged in the background and the lights focused on him.

“My lord, are you alright? You… don’t seem to be yourself.” Sure enough, Voldy’s blood-ruby red eyes are now glistening with a longing, an innocent hope, as he stared towards a point above and far in front of him, like the middle of the back rows in a theatre where he might catch and scare away some folks bearing cameras.

“No need to worry, Lucius, you and me, we could make this something truly incredible.”

Lucius cautiously looked up, “My lord, in accordance to rule number twenty three… ‘you and I’ is grammatically correct, ‘you and me’ is not.”

Voldemort had to pause a bit, “that sounds really fucking weird? But Lucius, as I was saying, we could go out and change everything! Where’s your courage, where’s your confidence, where’s your inflated ego gone? We could really do something incredible that blows everyone’s freaking mind, you know? You and me? Well, just, mostly me.”

With a resolute nod, Voldemort walked to the door, “I’d better start redrafting those rules! First thing to add, ‘never break up Lord Voldemort’s OTSP’!”

**Author's Note:**

> On a wide empty stage, Draco Malfoy cleared his throat and said, “We at Eugene O’Neill thank you immensely for sitting through our show--”  
> “If you liked it RECOMMEND IT!” Harry jumped in front of the camera, “to ALL your friends and family and fellow fans of both me and this guy—” he pulled a reluctant Elder Price into the camera’s view, “because guess what, you guys are a true rare species, and you need to let everybody know!!!” and he ran off Naruto style around the stage.  
> Elder Price slowly edged out of the camera frame, and Draco shook his head fondly, “where’s your etiquette Harry, do try to be more humble. Also, did no one tell you to never plug your own show?”  
> Harry ran across in front of Draco again.  
> Draco sighed, “I was meant to be the one this excited to be here. But do bring friends and come back you guys, and remember to leave your purse and kudos with the Broadway Cares red bucket, thank you.”  
> “CUT!”


End file.
